Parallel Universe
by Hornet394
Summary: In another world, in a parallel universe, two people, with the same fate. Seven part fic surrounding the Avengers and their counterparts from the Wizarding World, and vice versa. Inspired by Operation: Rebirth by DrinkingAlcoholicRainbows. 1: Remus Lupin and Bruce Banner
1. Chapter 1

**Parallel Universe**

** Contents**  
** 1. Remus and Bruce**  
** 2. Hagrid and Thor**  
** 3. Bellatrix and Natasha**  
** 4. Draco and Clint**  
** 5. Neville and Steve**  
** 6. Severus and Tony**  
** 7. Hogwarts and Phil**

* * *

1. Remus Lupin and Bruce Banner

He was cursed. He knew it. It came on an unsuspecting night, the same night he became an orphan, the same night he was enslaved by the moon. It was his passion. His passion and his family's. That led them to that fateful night.

He, by all means, was a patient person, as they said. He never yelled at anyone easily, nor did he swore. They asked him his secret, and he answered, that's because he was always impatient. They didn't understand. Nor did they understand why he never got angry.

He, spent his whole life, dodging here and there. Concealing himself, terrified of the moon. He was shunned, everywhere. He was too human to become part of the beasts, but he was too beastly to become part of the humans. He ignored them all. He didn't need to care about them. He was tied to the man who offered him education, then to his friends who offered him love. Unconsciously he had formed a pack, until it fell, crumbled around his utopia again.

He grew up in a happy world. He got to the best university there was to offer and had an amazing girlfriend who would stop the pulse of everyone. Why she was dating a scientific nerd like him was out if his knowledge. He was lucky, he was clever. No one hated him, but he did not have a lot of friends. His whole life, was dedicated to science. And it was science that was his downfall.

He watched as his pack broke apart. Betrayal lied bitter on his tongue, his amber eyes flashing. A wolf only has one pack. He had been told this enough.

The flashbacks haunted him after that ill-fated incident. He had harmed everyone he knew, everyone that cared about him, everyone he cared about. He deserved this. He deserved all of this.

He embraced the beast. He needed that courage his partner could give him. He needed, just for one night, the wildness in his mind. So he ran. He ran, and ran, and ran.

He desperately tried to rein in the other guy. He researched on himself, trying desperately to find a reverse button. He meditated, he did yoga- he even tried to kill himself. But it was only a matter of time when he exploded into another shell.

When he became himself again, he pushed the beast away, pushed his partner away. He needed to do his part in rescuing the world.

When he witnessed his team, he finally learnt how to embrace the other guy inside him. He, and the other guy, would do their part to protect the world.

After years of wandering, he finally gained himself love. From a girl that was thirteen years younger than him, from a boy whose eyes changed colour, and from a teenager who had the entire world resting on his shoulders.

He was found. He was accepted into a family, a team which originally feared him. He felt loved, an emotion he hadn't felt for ages. He found a sense of calm from the good captain, and a companion in the boisterous Tony Stark who pulled him out from that wallowing pit of self-guilty.

Some days, his partner is restless. His partner guides him on with animal instinct, veering him away from harm. Because he and his partner is one, Remus Lupin and Moony is one.

Some days, the other guy takes care of him, protecting his family members, protecting everything he cared about. Because the other guy understands him. Because the Hulk understands the good-natured Bruce Banner.

In another universe, two men swallowed up by a curse, a perfect reflection of each other. But Remus Lupin died a legend. Bruce Banner was a living legend. That was what made it parallel.

:::::What does parallel universe mean? A world opposite, or a world exactly the same? Or is it simply a reflection? Or, are we the reflection?:::::

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Inspired by Operation: REBIRTH by DrinkingAlcoholicRainbows

www.

fanfiction. net

/

s/8155464/1/Operation_REBIRTH


	2. Chapter 2

**Parallel Universe**

** Contents**  
** 1. Remus and Bruce**  
** 2. Hagrid and Thor**  
** 3. Bellatrix and Natasha**  
** 4. Draco and Clint**  
** 5. Neville and Steve**  
** 6. Severus and Tony**  
** 7. Hogwarts and Phil**

* * *

2. Hagrid and Thor  
He was a jolly person, he would be first to admit. And he loved everything. He was called dimwit, called the oaf, but it didn't matter a tad bit to him, just as long as the creatures understood him.

He had a lot of friends, everyone wanted to be him. He was the golden son, the heir to the throne, a God. Only his brother scorned him, outwitting him by every step.

The woods were forever a new place to explore for him. He could find all sorts of creatures in there, all accomodating his belonging. He loved being alone, with the creatures as his friends.

He, on the other hand, hated being alone. He always had his friends together with him. Watching his back. The forests, the frozen plains, everyday was a new adventure for him. Everyone wanted to be his friend.

He knew he was weak. He knew someday he wouldn't be able to protect them. Not Aragog, not Buckbeak, not Nobert. He couldn't even protect his friends, how could he protect those who were protecting him?

He believed he could save everyone. He believed that the frost giants were demons from Hel and should be taught a lesson. Less, he failed to realize that his brother was more adamant than he was. He wanted to seek revenge at those who gave him life and destroyed his life forever.

He knew his brother was somewhere out there, shunned because of who he was. He knew his brother wasn't as lucky as he was, he didn't have someone to save him.

Even when he heard firsthand from his brother how far his brother had fallen, he refused to believe it. Somewhere in his conscience he knew his brother had did wrong, but he was still his brother, no matter what.

He was a victim, twice, at the hands of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. He lost his gift the first time. He lost a friend in the second time, but gained victory. Yet, the haunted look in his friend's face. That would follow him forever.

Until he saw the state his brother had lost his brother-in-arms into. The Hawk would suddnly collaspe, retching, spasming, the aftereffects of the curse his brother had put him into. The Hawk was broken.

He remembered his friend's awed face as his friend was opened into a whole new world of possibilities, remembered his delight as he flew atop Buckbeak, remembered the growing hardness in his eyes. The war was over, but without robbing the light from his friend's eyes.

The Hawk refused to even speak to him, categorizing him with his brother. The Widow would later admit about how the Hawk had been shaken, deeply, into the roots.

No matter what he did, the light never came back to Harry Potter's eyes. After all, what could weak Rubeus Hagrid do? He couldn't protect those he vowed to save.

No matter how he apologised, what done was done. The Hawk did open up, but never to himself. After all, Thor Odinson could never atone what Loki Laufeyson had ever did to his comrade. He couldn't save those he vowed to protect.

In another universe, two men failed the very one thing they had vowed to do, trying to save someone who had been destroyed by someone evil. But no matter how hard Rubeus Hagrid and Thor Odinson tried, Harry Potter and Clint Barton weren't theirs to save.

**:::::Do our achievements limit to what our parallel selves do, or do our achievements limit what our parallel selves do?:::::**

* * *

Inspired by Operation: REBIRTH by DrinkingAlcoholicRainbows

www.

fanfiction. net

/

s/8155464/1/Operation_REBIRTH


	3. Chapter 3

**Parallel Universe**

**Contents**  
**1. Remus and Bruce**  
**2. Hagrid and Thor**  
**3. Bellatrix and Natasha**  
**4. Draco and Clint**  
**5. Neville and Steve**  
**6. Severus and Tony**  
**7. Hogwarts and Phil**

* * *

3. Bellatrix and Natasha  
They told her she was crazy. And she would proudly admit, and loudly, that she was. She was crazy and proud, so to say. But she wasn't a mindless killing machine, contrary to common belief. She did everything for a reason.

She was cold and efficient. People feared her, her reputation reaching those of the Underworld. Those who didn't did so when they finally met her, but they wouldn't be able to spread the message on. She made sure of that. She was ruthless, and heartless, the world's greatest assasin.

She didn't mind groveling, just as long as she was the best. Just as long as she could prove that she was better than her sisters, prove that she, was the strong one, far stronger than all the others.

She was the only one who made it this far. To keep them away from selling her hide, she had to prove that she was the best among the bunch. She had to prove that she had no emotions. She had to prove that she was better than all of the others, therefore she deserved to live, even if that meant she had to step over her friends' corpses to do so.

She knew what they said of her. Even her husband didn't trust her to look his back. No one did, only Cissa did. But Cissa was naive, stupid, thinking that she could have her happily ever after with her husband and son. She herself was stupid, thinking that Cissa knew better. Cissa was a disappointment.

She knew one day they would turn on her. And she had to be ready. She escaped, killing the man who had trusted her that she would do her job well. And she did. She did it too well, that she would get rid of the only witness. Then she fled, starting a life of her own, but still manipulated by her childhood.

Her whole life, her entire life, it was to overtake. Since childhood she had been fighting to take over Meda, who was cleverer than her. She hoped that by persuading her mother to marry Meda off it would be better, but Meda would disgrace the family name by eloping with a mudborn!

She knew that many aspired to kill her. For revenge, for money, for fame, whatever. She didn't need to know. She just killed them all. Until the sharpshooter trailed her. She knew he was there, she just didn't know where he was. He scared her, and thrilled her at the same time.

When she started learning the Dark Arts she was warned. Once you meddle in the Dark Arts, it's hard to turn back. She didn't care. The Dark Arts would bring her what she wanted, and revenge on those who wronged her.

They played a game of cat and mouse. She would run, and he or she would catch up on her; but she would flee again. He or she would almost shoot her, but she would evade just in time. She was determined not to be caught, and it was refreshing to find someone who matched her skills in his or her field.

She was addicted. She reveled in the way her victims screamed, the green light causing her victims to collapse. She cackled at the way they pleaded, they always pleaded, everytime. She, as a woman, took pride in the fact that her kills far outnumbered the men.

It was a rough shot that she found her shooter. Clint 'Hawkeye' Barton saved her. He opened her to a whole new world of possibilities. He had quickly nicknamed her Nat. He had helped her in more ways than he had thought.

She felt no remorse as she sent Sirius Black tipping into the veil. She got flashbacks of when the Black sisters played with the Black boys. But she was far stronger. She proved that she was a perfect pureblood. Crucios only brought her happiness, now.

She gained a new identity. She gained a new reputation. She gained a new will, a new kind of freedom. But some days she would doubt herself. Doubt in what she had become. For a mended heart could just be mended crookedly, and she was utterly dependent on the two men that saved her. If they left her…

There used to be a therapist in Azkaban. He was a handsome young fellow, an Irish by the name of Damon. The dementors gave him a wide berth everytime they saw him. He said that he could help her. And stupidly, for those sessions, she wanted to turn to the light. She wanted to hear more of Damon's infectious laughter, wanted to leave Dark Arts. But when the mark hung over the air of Azkaban, what Damon said no longer mattered. He was the first one to die when she got out. Bellatrix Lestrange decided to kill the one who had almost saved her.

She and Clint and Phil, they liked working alone or together, they never got along with anyone else. But for Nat, as her savior wasn't beside her. It was these four strange men, that wormed their way into her heart. Natasha Romanoff had yet another purpose to live, because she chose to be saved.

In another universe, two woman trying to salvage what they could from their childhood. One had it all, one had none. But Bellatrix Lestrange let the darkness enfulge her, but Natasha Romanoff rose from the ashes like a pheonix reborn.

:::::Do parallel universes mirror each other? If so, I'd rather be the one in charge.:::::

* * *

Inspired by Operation: REBIRTH by DrinkingAlcoholicRainbows

www.

fanfiction. net

/

s/8155464/1/Operation_REBIRTH


	4. Chapter 4

**Parallel Universe**

**Contents**  
**1. Remus and Bruce**  
**2. Hagrid and Thor**  
**3. Bellatrix and Natasha**  
**4. Draco and Clint**  
**5. Neville and Steve**  
**6. Severus and Tony**  
**7. Hogwarts and Phil**

* * *

4. Draco and Clint  
He used to think his father was the best father in the world. His father was his role model, who he wanted to become, even overtake. He did everything he could to please him, even though somewhere in his conscience it told him that he was wrong.

He used to count on his brother. No matter what happened, his brother would be there for him. Even when his innocence was taken away from him, his brother, although not knowing what happened, would dry away the blood and tears. Except when his brother started selling the key to his trailer.

He grew up spoilt, pampered, and loved. As the only son and heir of a pureblood family, he was used to the deceit and deception, used to being a perfect pureblood, the heir people expected of him.

He dreaded his childhood. All he remembered was death, spotlights, and betrayal. One after the other used him, until he broke free.

As he grew up though, the attention was on him. Pressure from everywhere forced him to his knees. With a death threat hanging over his head, he was forced to do this, do that. The inner world called him 'messenger boy sissy'. The outer world called him 'brat of a death eater'. He didn't want to become his father anymore. He just wanted to be himself

It was hard, keeping up his masks. Acting like he shot for entertainment in front of the audiences; an obedient young boy to the men in the circus; a loving face to his brother, making his brother believe that he hadn't suspected anything; wiping his existence from the planet, hiding atop the trees, in the air ducts, to avoid their greedy looks, their scheming looks, their adoring looks, their pitiful looks. Avoid them all.

So he dominated. He ruled with an iron fist, held his head high in front of the men. He became more vicious, had to become the best in everything, so one day, he could survive leave hell.

He was forced to flee. Roaming around, he made himself a living with his bow and arrow. There he found a freedom, even though he was later enlisted in S.H.I.E.L.D. But there he truthfully enjoyed shooting, and had, true friends, real friends who cared for him.

At last he made a decision. It was hard, and would cost them their family name. But it would worth it, the other alternative would cost them their life. It wasn't an easy decision, although it was a simple yes and no. A split's second of choice. And he knew it was up to him to make.

That day, he lost. His whole life, his loyalty, his love, his own existence- all wiped out. Instead the shell came along, as he could only weep inside. He could only watch as those who had fought beside him fell under his arrows, watched as he harmed those he would joke with, laugh with.

He prided himself in knowing the greys of the game. To them, it was simple black and white. Good or bad. Light or Dark. But he, he understood how to skirt around the rules. And so, unlike the others, who lost it all or gained it all, he stayed at the top, no matter how looked down upon he was. He didn't mind wearing a different skin everyday: just as long as he was always the winner.

He lied. He told them he couldn't remember a thing, when he could recall it as if it had occured yesterday. A perfect clarity in his mind. He pretended that everything was okay, while he hid in the air ducts, the roof to cry, in a world without Phil Coulson.

Sometimes he wished for a shoulder to cry on, to sleep without nightmares plaguing him, for someone to just listen to him. Sometime he wished he was just another commoner down the corner, only caring about his jobs or his girlfriend. But he couldn't afford such fantasies, or it would cost him his life. The people of the Light wanted to befriend him, but he was too wounded to open up again.

He tried to hide himself in, tried to act strong. But his teammates, his comrades, his friends, his brothers… They saw through it all, and hauled him up, giving him a family he never had. He told then everything and they let him break down, release everything.

Draco Malfoy was always a survivor. To survive he had already discarded his original shell, taking up dozens that suited him like hell. But it wasn't him, and he would never let anyone see into his true heart. He could never give anyone that degree of trust. He was too broken.

The only way Clint Barton could cope with his emotions was to wrap layers and layers around it like an onion, while all the others tried to peel him apart. But he let them.

In another universe, two men were wrapped tight in cocoons of their own design, wary eyes darting with suspicion, a direct consequence of pressure, betrayal, and self-preservance. But Draco Malfoy had nobody to rescue him, nobody who was willing to know the true Draco Malfoy. Clint Barton had Natasha, had Phil, had the Avengers. That's why he was never alone, while Draco was always just by himself.

:::::Morgan Freeman: It's hard not to wonder what our alter egos might be like, whether they're living out our most cherished dreams. But, don't forget this possibility: You could already be living the dream of another you from a parallel universe.:::::

* * *

Inspired by Operation: REBIRTH by DrinkingAlcoholicRainbows

www.

fanfiction. net

/

s/8155464/1/Operation_REBIRTH


	5. Chapter 5

**Parallel Universe**

**Contents**  
**1. Remus and Bruce**  
**2. Hagrid and Thor**  
**3. Bellatrix and Natasha**  
**4. Draco and Clint**  
**5. Neville and Steve**  
**6. Severus and Tony**  
**7. Hogwarts and Phil**

* * *

5. Neville and Steve  
He always knew he was scrawny. he was the near-squib of the family, the near-disappointment, the near-failure. Since day one he was put down by those who needed to bully others to feel secure. Since day one he had been compared to his parents and how he would never become them. Since day one he was told he amount to nothing.

He had a dream. He wanted to play his part for his country. He wanted to fight alongside his friends, claiming victory for his homeland. He wanted to announce proudly to the world that a kid from Brooklyn was in the army. He knew his physique wasn't exactly desired in the army, but his hopes were high. So he went around, hoping for a chance, a shot.

People pitied him. His parents were great aurors, heroes, legends even. But their boy couldn't even mount a broom or brew a decent potion or cast a jinx! He was the last in his class and was only good at Herbology, a subject that aurors need not to be good at. His defense marks were pretty low except for third year, but a werewolf can never be believed.

When his friends got in, only one returned to look after the kid who for beaten up at a regular basis. He could count on Bucky, even though, sometimes, he felt so tiny around Bucky. Always, he got into trouble, and always, it was Bucky who saved him.

Joining the DA was the best thing that ever happened to him. He truthfully enjoyed practicing without one of those menacing professers, just surrounded by those united with the same cause. His friends, which wouldn't tease him, but gave him confidence and encouragement to do better.

Even when he got the chance, the others looked sideways at him. They didn't believe that such a scrawny kid could ever compete with them. He couldn't, of course, in the physical forte. But he matched up what he hadn't with his brain and his heart. He didn't even have to be a genius. He just had to be slightly smarter, and when he changed, he was better.

Standing up, when their leader had died, was the bravest thing he had ever done, when the other, according to his friends, was petting a Devil's Snare. Even as the hat erupted into flames atop him, he hadn't felt regret. Because Neville Longbottom knew, if he died, at least he had died for his country.

Awakening seventy years later, to a stranger world, where everyone he had knew- Bucky, who had died before he himself was frozen, Peggy, Howard, Colonel Phillips…- had gone on before him, he didn't regret waking up. Because to Steve Rogers, the identity of Captain America was to protect America and her citizens.

In another universe, two men rose from the bottom of the line to become heroes of their age. Neville Longbottom was the Herbology kid, at the same time the first person to stand against Voldemort when everyone believed their hope had died with their saviour. Steve Rogers was the oldest man from Brooklyn, but he was the leader of the Avengers in an unfamiliar world. Both men who had proven themselves, over and over again.

:::::In some way, the you in the parallel universe is you. Does this sound confusing? I bet it does.:::::

* * *

Inspired by Operation: REBIRTH by DrinkingAlcoholicRainbows

www.

fanfiction. net

/

s/8155464/1/Operation_REBIRTH


End file.
